


scraps for them, all for you.

by spills



Series: stupid. so dummy! [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (actual convo happens off screen at least!), Barebacking, But like. With Feelings, Crossdressing - Angel Swimsuit, M/M, PWP, band!au, like. angelfucking, mentions of blasphemy (?), they are both slightly possessive of each other!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:35:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27615641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spills/pseuds/spills
Summary: Osamu laughs at that, not unkindly, just amused, getting up to discard the used cotton. “Alright,” heads into the bathroom, and Motoya hears the tap running, “Don’t change out of it yet though, I haven’t had my fill of seeing you in it.”
Relationships: Komori Motoya/Miya Osamu
Series: stupid. so dummy! [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979032
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	scraps for them, all for you.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glimmers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glimmers/gifts).



> once again!! the au itself was started by dam who you can catch [ here!! ](https://twitter.com/feauc)  
> today i saw them draw a suga who is prettiest section leader/marimba leader and i had!! feelings... .  
> -  
> timeline of is roughly... 3 years after [ [moreish] ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26890012) and [ [are we something?] ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27059809) altho everything is roughly PWP atm since my brain refuses to brew proper thought!! i am sumimasorry for that!!

“Don’t you think this is a little embarrassing?” Motoya isn’t the type to be shy, and again, he’s been called shameless on multiple accounts, but maybe that was because he wasn’t in a committed relationship at the time. In fact, maybe it’s because the man that he’s in a committed relationship with right now is looking at him with way too much interest. 

The intensity of Osamu’s gaze makes Motoya shiver a little, goosebumps rising on his skin. Though, that’s probably also the fault of the outfit that he’s in, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. 

His current predicament was the fault of one Kozume Kenma who decided  _ Sexy Halloween for the Fans.  _

_ For the fans _ , Motoya thought mirthlessly as he’s still underdressed with nothing but Osamu’s pea coat draped over his back, a pillow settled in his lap, covering up his junk. The problem with being a show-er was the difficulty involved with making sure all the goods didn’t spill. Sure, maybe having woes about his dick being  _ above average  _ size wasn’t the most commendable of annoyances, but it was a problem when all a boy wanted was to dress up in cute lingerie without worrying about accidentally flashing. 

Sue him. 

From the photoshoot from which he had a beach ball placed tastefully between his thighs to now on top of Osamu’s bed where he’s subtly trying to cover himself up with the pillow, Motoya feels more undressed than he does  _ actually _ being undressed. He had intended on changing immediately once the photoshoot was over between Atsumu’s teasing and Bokuto’s sincere question of  _ “Wait, Komomo. Are you actually blushing?”  _ Motoya was resolute in not letting his boyfriend see him in said halloween costume. 

Too bad for Motoya though, Osamu had arrived just before the photoshoot had ended. Kenma and Atsumu popped by him to ask for opinions on which images should be used for the Instapic page. And even before Motoya could have shuffled over to the dressing room, Osamu had beckoned him over and wrapped Motoya in his coat, the one Motoya was wearing now, sitting pretty in his bed. 

Maybe he was distracted by the warmth of Osamu’s coat and scent as Samu had shuffled him to his car. Sue him again - Komori Motoya is incredibly gay for his hot boyfriend that he misses whenever they’re apart. 

“Mm,” Osamu considers, a cotton pad dabbed with makeup remover between his fingers as wipes away the eyeshadow on Motoya’s lids gently, “For ya maybe. Seeing ya all dolled up like this makes me want to spoil you,” he discards the cotton pad for a fresh one to start removing the blush, “Could be the natural look. I’ve never seen your cheeks so pink before,” Osamu leans in close to brush his lips against the shell of Motoya’s ear before giving the apple of his cheek a little chomp. 

Pink that probably flushes to red now, seeing that Motoya can feel his cheeks heat up once again. He holds one hand against Samu’s chest, sure that he’s blushing furiously right now, probably all the way to his chest, which this stupid costume doesn’t provide any help at hiding. 

“Shut up please. I’m trying to retain some sense of dignity here.” 

Osamu laughs at that, not unkindly, just amused, getting up to discard the used cotton. “Alright,” heads into the bathroom, and Motoya hears the tap running, “Don’t change out of it yet though, I haven’t had my fill of seeing you in it.” 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Motoya bites out with no heat, turning around to flop belly fist onto the bed, burying his head into Osamu’s pillow. Savours the scent of the other man, cedarwood and spice, a little bit of rice smell too. Motoya had gotten him rice and milk soap bars and it’s nice to know that Samu’s been putting it to good use. There’s the scent of citrus too, but that’s from Motoya himself, indication that maybe he has been staying over at Samu’s a little bit too much. 

Motoya buries his face into the pillow, nuzzles his nose in the soft fabric and wills bad thoughts away. What he has with Osamu is a good thing now. It’s a good thing, it’s healthy, what he has with Osamu is everything he could have ever wanted even if he doubts it sometimes. 

So no, there shouldn’t ever be being around someone you love  _ too much _ . 

“I already have some private pictures all to myself, but if yer gonna offer to give me some more, I ain’t gonna say no,” Osamu answers while returning with a wet rag to wipe down the other man, clean him up. Motoya recognizes the look in the other man’s eye though, burning bright with hunger, and the vocalist knows that tonight, Osamu plans on making him hoarse. It’s routine really, this unspoken, new agreement of  **[** **_Here, I’ll take care of you]_ ** _.  _ Leaves Motoya in disbelief really, that he has this wonderful man all to himself now. 

He doesn’t say that out loud though, not just yet, rolling to the side to properly face his man, a cheeky smile on his grin. Osamu’s peacoat discarded to the side of the bed, and Motoya sticks one leg up teasingly. 

“You’re just insatiable,” he sighs fondly as Osamu presses a reverent kiss to his ankle, warm cloth dragging down Motoya’s calf. 

“Maybe so,” Osamu doesn’t bother denying tonight, mood appearing to be sweeter than usual, is this really the work of a sexy angel costume? Motoya isn’t inclined to know, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find it amusing, giving a small giggle before his eyes meet Samu’s. A crooked smile on Samu’s face, two parts tender, one part expecting when he continues his thought, “but you'll give me everything I want, won’t ya ‘Toya?” 

The expression on the other man’s face is absolutely unfair. As in, how is he supposed to refuse the other man if he looks just a touch vulnerable… dare he say, loving? 

Miya Osamu is going to be the death of him and then Kenma is going to need to find a new singer for the band. This time, it's not going to be Motoya's fault though, but Kenma's own because he decided that dressing Motoya up as a swimsuit angel for the fans was a good idea. 

Good god. He's going to get railed so hard tonight. Wants to give his man everything Osamu wants as the cloth goes from calf to thigh, kisses planted on newly clean skin. 

_Terrible._ Motoya's in love. Fuck. _**He's so in love**_. Actually. 

Scratch that. 

**He's in love. It’s a wonderful thing.**

Motoya doesn't want to deprive himself or Osamu of love like this anymore. 

His fingers tapping the other man's knuckles to get his attention, doesn’t miss how Osamu has his other hand on Motoya’s other thigh, rubbing circles into his flesh with his thumb. “Come closer,” he croons and Samu obliges easily, dips his head low for their lips to meet, presses gently and Motoya can’t help but giggle, playfully nipping at the other man’s bottom lip, earning a low groan and nails digging into his inner thigh. Osamu presses closer and closer, tongue slipping into Motoya’s mouth, tasting like the spearmint he was crunching on during the drive home. 

“Thought you were embarrassed, angel?” Osamu huffs when they finally break apart, string of saliva at the edge of his chin and Motoya licks it away with his tongue. Osamu grimaces at the action which prompts Motoya to laugh a little more, to get a little cheekier, swinging a leg over Osamu’s left thigh, lets himself get comfortable. 

“What?” Motoya pokes Osamu’s cheek, “You’ll have my tongue in your mouth but not on your skin?” curls his fingers around the nape of Osamu’s neck before proceeding to nudge at Osamu’s groin with his knee, “Or is it because you’d prefer my tongue down th-” 

“Do ya always have to run yer mouth like this,” his man has covered his mouth with his hand, followed by an exasperated sigh and Motoya is so very tempted to lick his boyfriend’s palm just to be a nuisance. He refrains from doing so, figures that this time could be spent better admiring how red Osamu’s cheeks could flush. While Motoya is aware that his own blush tends to rise to his ears, Osamu’s blush can colour the tip of his nose when he’s feeling particularly heated. A glance downwards to the other man’s crotch is all Motoya needs. 

Voice muffled, Motoya asks the question anyway, “So like, is this an angel-fucking kink?” 

Osamu hooks a thumb at the edge of Motoya’s mouth before shoving him backwards into the mattress. Positions reversed now, Osamu on top of him and Motoya can’t say that he’s complaining, even as Osamu growls “Why are you like this?” and Motoya can’t help biting Osamu’s thumb with the right amount of pressure that makes the other man hiss. 

Remedies the bite with a lick, “Probably because I like you a lot,” making deliberate eye contact with Osamu when he says that and sucks on his boyfriend’s thumb. 

“Ya really are-” the taller of the two stutters, left speechless and flustered and Motoya’s tongue chases the salt of Osamu’s skin even as pulls back from him. Osamu is still on top of him though, pinning him with thighs spread over thighs. Motoya takes the opportunity to lean back up and tilt his head to the side innocently, curves his lips into something soft. 

“What about me?” Motoya fishes, doesn’t miss how Osamu’s hands become a touch gentle once again. Short, blunt nails that graze against skin, fiddling with the string of the sorry excuse that’s supposed to serve as a bikini bottom as his boyfriend’s hand slips underneath the skirt of the outfit.

The outfit is cute! Really! 

But really, the saving grace of the entire swimsuit is the skirt that has given Motoya options to _uh_ , improvise when attempting to protect his modesty. Osamu glances at Motoya, dark eyes seeking permission. Silly - Motoya reaches out to stroke Samu’s hair, tucking it behind his ear - since Samu has already said it himself, Motoya would give Samu anything he wanted as long as he asks. 

“Can’t win against ya,” Osamu shrugs before pulling down the lingerie piece carefully, unlike what usually happens, simply ripping it off from the side. Osamu takes his time, slipping the garment from where it got hooked around Motoya’s ankle before discarding it to the floor. He leaves the skirt as is, “One moment yer being a brat and the next moment yer saying shit like  _ how much ya like me _ . I don’t think my heart can handle that, ‘Toya,” Samu shakes his head before readjusting his position, bending his back low to dip his head low

“Too bad,” Motoya hums, “because I’ve only gotten crazier about you with each passing day, ‘Samu” shivers when Osamu mumbles a quiet  _ thank you for the meal _ and licks a long strip up his length. Motoya thinks he should be making fun of Osamu for saying that unironically before his dick, but all he manages is a hitch of the breath as Samu works his mouth slowly down him. Swirls his tongue, bobs his head at a mid-pace, going lower and lower. 

Motoya’s trying to be a good boy, swear to god, clutching at the sheets till his knuckles go white. He really doesn’t want to buck his hips, and thank god for Osamu using both hands to hold him down as if reading his mind. Loves it when Osamu takes his time undoing him, especially when he’s in a mood akin to falling in love all over again for the first time. 

(Motoya thinks that every morning he gets to wake up to Osamu again is an opportunity to fall in love with Osamu all over again. It’s the little blessings in life.) 

Eventually, Samu relieves himself from Motoya’s dick, leaving his boyfriend’s shaft pink and drooling with pre-cum. Edging, but in the nicest way possible, as he crawls up to place a hand over the fabric of Motoya’s bikini top, rolling a perk nipple underneath it. Flicks his tongue over Motoya’s mouth so quickly that he barely gets a taste of himself, and murmurs “Nah, that’s good news for me,” pinches at Motoya’s other nipple hard enough to hurt, “because I’ve always been pretty crazy about you.” 

Saying that, Osamu takes a bite at Motoya’s collar bone which has Motoya gasping, eyes watering from both pain and pleasure. 

“Fuck-  _ fuck,  _ goddamnit,” Motoya knows that he sounds desperate, but in this situation? It’s hard not to be, “Can’t you just fuck me already?’ He pleads to his boyfriend, “I want you in me so  **_badly_ ** ,” he whines as his sadist of a boyfriend responds by offering an accompanying mark to his other collar bone, ‘  _ Fuck-!  _ Samu I’m gonna go insane if you don’t fuck my brains out anytime soon.” 

“And here you were being so good at being patient,” Osamu responds dryly before taking the opportunity to flip Motoya onto his belly. Stupid sexy strong boyfriend, Motoya curses himself for having a strength kink in the first place, already anticipating for how Osamu is going to be holding him down. Motoya arches his back, sticks his ass out, before a thought crosses his mind as he hears the sound of the lube cap being flicked open. 

“‘Samu- wait.” 

“Yeah ‘toya?” Samu drawls his name, there’s the squelching sound of lube being warmed between his fingers before he has one hand circling the rim of his hole and the other one reaching for the bedside table. The sound of a foil crinkling and if Motoya wants to speak, he knows he should speak now lest they waste a perfectly good condom. 

“Maybe,” Motoya finds himself a little shy all over again, a little hesitant to speak, and the hesitance must be palpable in the air because Osamu has stopped fingering him.

“‘Toya, do you want me to-”    
  
“No!” Motoya hates how awkward it’s turning out to be, and maybe he should have brought up this idea another time, but they’re already here so they might as well. Push forward. Or backwards, seeing as Osamu’s fingers are still lined up with his entrance. “Just- I was thinking. What if you,” and Motoya presses himself backwards gently, corrects himself, “what if  _ we  _ did it without a condom?” 

“ **_Oh-_ ** ” is Osamu’s response, and Motoya isn’t sure if it’s incriminating and maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place? It’s just. They’ve been together exclusively for a year and- “I don’t mind, ‘Toya. Only if yer sure you want it though.” 

“Yeah-” Motoya exhales, “I’m like. 100% sure that it’s you that I want. That alright with you?” 

Osamu’s answer to him is to add another finger, works him open slowly from first knuckle to second knuckle. The ghosting of lips over the shell of his ear, Osamu tugging at his cartilage gentle still with his teeth. 

“I’ll give you everything you want ‘toya." 

It’s a promise, and Motoya shivers, wondering if Osamu is aware that his promise kind of sounds like a threat? A really sexy threat and Motoya doesn’t even bother trying to swallow back his cries of Osamu’s name as his boyfriend makes him arch lower and lower, torso against back, and the crop top from the swimsuit is drenched with both their sweat, skirt flipped up and rustling against Osamu’s abs. 

Motoya can’t see how Osamu is fucking him, but he can imagine it. What they’re doing now is more akin to feeling than action if he had to describe it, eyelids fluttering with each rough thrust as Osamu allows a moment’s lag between that and pumping Motoya’s cock with his big palm. 

_ Fuck, does Osamu know how much Motoya loves his hands and arms and the entirety of him?  _

“Toya, I’m about to come,” Osamu grabs his attention with his voice low and ragged, already making movements to pull out. 

Motoya bumps his hips back and mewls, “Want you in me. _All of you in me. Pleasepleaseplease_ ** _._** **_Samu- wantyoujustyouonlyyou--_** ”

“Fuck- shit, ‘toya if you-” Osamu growls, “ _ I’m yours okay _ ?” snapping his hips into Motoya, earning a blissed out sob, “ **_Absolutely yours_ ** ,” and his nails are properly digging into his skin, “I really am going to lose my mind if you leave again.” 

Motoya wonders if this should be scary, if he should feel scared, but his insides are just feeling warm because leaving Osamu made him feel as if he had lost one half of his brain at the time. Knowing that from experience, there’s only one correct answer to this. 

“You think I let anyone come in me?” Motoya gives a wet laugh, giggles even more at how manically delighted he sounds, “ _ You’re mine- I’m yours- so- _ ” he draws out a long moan, “come in me already.”

* * *

They take a shower together. Osamu takes his time cleaning out Motoya, carefully - like he always does. Routine is comfortable, especially when they take turns washing each other’s backs, trying to stop suds from dropping in each other’s eyes. 

Really they should be tired because after that round, came a half-time round, since Motoya’s not-so-secretly greedy in Osamu’s presence and wanted to lick up every bit of his seed that was leftover from the spill. Lavished every bit of attention he could give just because. Made more angel-fucking jokes just because. Osamu would smack his ass when his mouth was getting a little unruly, but couldn’t stop himself from laughing when Motoya had wondered out loud if Kenma would be centred around the concept of angel-fucking. 

“Sakusa is gonna throttle ya,” Osamu had mused when he had towel dried Motoya’s hair, “Didn’t he say that ya were already on thin ice because of the backtrack of the previous single?” 

“Blame for that should be 50/50, since you’re the one pulling all those sounds out of me,” comes Motoya’s smug reply. 

“Yeah?” Osamu shakes his head, finding his boyfriend to be unbelievable, “How the hell would I have known ya would find inspiration in  _ moans?  _ I’m not even part of the creative decision.”

“What can I say? You bring the best out of me,” Motoya turns around to beam at him, fondness that crinkles the edge of his eyes, “Maybe my real intention was to let the whole city know that I’m yours.” 

“Yer sly. I dunno how ya can just say things like that,” Osamu wishes he had his cap right now to pull it over his face, feeling his cheeks warming up. 

“Sure I am,” Motoya doesn’t refute him at all, “but you love me anyway.” 

“Yeah. I do. Love ya.” 

His boyfriend leans back into him, tilts his head up to kiss the bottom of his chin with a smile that Motoya doesn’t even bother trying to hide. 

“Love you to bits and pieces too, ‘samu.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> me: aha osakomo is merely a joke ship to me  
> me: (tucking the osakomo tag under my bed)
> 
> chat with me on [ twitter!! ](https://twitter.com/rinrintoya)  
> and the implied soundtrack with uh. r18 was the brainworm of [ Alice ](https://twitter.com/angryeggo) and just thought that it was a thought that needed to be shared!!


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